The warm spell is over. It’s a deep freeze now. The cold doesn’t bother me too much – it’s all about knowing how to dress: long johns, thermal shirt, wool sweater, fleece-lined mitts and a dense scarf. Plus a down coat, shearling boots, and a fur hat. Winter in Canada isn’t for amateurs (nor for vegans, apparently).
This week I’ve been trying take to heart all that good advice about living in the moment. Singing, seeing friends, catching up on emails, reminding myself about what’s important (that same old moving target). Typing that out, I'm reminded of Jo Knowles' blog, where she recently shared some powerful words about Maurice Sendak and the importance of living one’s life.
And while I'm sharing links, here's another great blog post by Caroline Wissing I stumbled upon via Twitter about acknowledging your talent.
And at the Guardian, Philip Roth picks his best novels. (I’ve only read Portnoy’s Complaint, many years ago, and more recently The Human Stain, which I loved. I think American Pastoral will be next on the list…although probably not next in the reading lineup, not when I have the new Alice Munro and Zadie Smith at home.) I love the idea of being prolific enough to actually have an oeuvre to consider – to have a body of work from which you can pick and choose your favourites. (There. That should be enough of an ambition spur to get me up early tomorrow to work on my new story.)
There’s also this hilariously accurate article on Slate about the dark side of the book tour. I’m planning my book launch for Bone and Bread right now and am plagued with similar visions of nobody showing up. Say you’ll come?